The night before the break

The night before they are allowed to leave the dorms, Haeun and Jihoon were cuddled up in her bed, his head nestled on her lap. Her hand stroked his hair gently, their breaths falling into a soft, rhythmic harmony.

"Stay," he said softly, the word carrying an edge of desperation. "Haeun, stay with me. Just this once."

She looked down, her long hair cascading down her shoulder in a fall of dark silk, caressing his face. The faintest smile, both tender and resolute, curved her lips as she regarded him. “You know I can’t.”

“You can,” he countered, his voice sharpening just slightly, though he quickly caught himself. Jihoon always knew how to temper his emotions, smoothing rough edges into charm. Tonight, though, that mask was fraying. “What’s so wrong about skipping once? Its just a weekend, and there's the golden week holidays coming soon anyways. Do you think he’ll mind?”

Haeun’s expression grew serious, her voice soft but firm. “I get a handful of days with him. Just a handful, Jihoon. And nothing—nothing—is going to stop me.”

Jihoon turned his head, staring at her desk without seeing it, sulking wordlessly.

She shifted closer, resting her chin on her hand as she studied his face. “What are your plans, anyway?”

Jihoon shrugged one shoulder, but the gesture was too practiced to be casual. “I’ll stay in, like I always do. Play games, eat junk food, avoid the thought of being alone for too long. You know, the usual glamorous life.”

“You could visit your family,” she suggested gently.

“I don’t have family here,” he replied flatly, his voice carrying the cadence of someone who wanted to accept the fact, though perhaps never without bitterness. “They live overseas, and by the time I get there it's time to come back. And friends?” He let the word roll from his tongue with disdain. “What friends? I didn't have time to make any in school. Too busy with training, you know, for this.” He gestured vaguely around the room.

“Surely there’s someone,” Haeun pressed, though her voice softened as she began to see the quiet truth of it. Jihoon—who so effortlessly charmed fans and cameras alike—was, in many ways, a man stranded in the ocean, surrounded by water, yet have none to drink.

“There isn’t,” Jihoon replied simply, and for a moment, the unadorned honesty of it startled her. He turned back to face her then, his gaze steady. “It’s fine. I’ll survive. I always do.”

Haeun’s brow furrowed slightly as she sat up, pulling the sheet loosely around herself. “If you want,” she offered hesitantly, “I can ask Minjae about bringing you along.”

Jihoon froze. The expression that flickered across his face was almost imperceptible—a mixture of incredulity, indignation, and something far more wounded. “What?” he said finally, as though she’d suggested he spend the weekend scrubbing the toilet. “No. No, thanks.”

“Why not?” she asked, frowning now. “It’s better than staying here alone, isn’t it?”

“You think I want to watch you two all weekend?” Jihoon retorted, his voice rising just enough to betray his frustration. “I’m not him, Haeun. I don’t need a front-row seat to a performance where I'm not allowed on stage. And let’s not pretend he would want me there either."

The words struck a nerve, and Haeun sat still for a moment, looking at him carefully. Jihoon’s gaze had dropped again, and though his voice had steadied, his expression seemed to close off like a locked door. She opened her mouth to argue but then stopped. He was right, of course. Bringing him would be a cruelty disguised as kindness.

“Fine,” she said at last, her voice quiet. “But…are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’m always okay,” he replied with a crooked smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Go have your perfect weekend.”

Haeun sighed, not bothering to argue further. She leaned forward briefly, brushing her lips against his temple—a gesture of comfort, though it did little to dispel the tension in the air.

The Haeun that had first met Jihoon might have let things rest here, unsure of what to do when caught between two men who were vying for her affections. But she had spent enough time with the man pouting in her lap to know what buttons to push, and how to push them.

She slipped a hand down his pants, fingers trailing over his length with practiced familiarity. She felt him stir, his body reacting even as he remained silent. “Hey,” she murmured against his hair. “Just because I'm leaving tomorrow doesn't mean we can’t make tonight a good one.”

He tensed for a moment, and she paused, letting her fingers linger without moving, knowing how tantalising that touch would be. Finally, she felt his shoulders relax, and she took the chance to tease him lightly. “Do you want my mouth or not?"

A beat of silence, and then Jihoon let out a slow breath, turning his head slightly to look at her. “You know I do.” His voice was low and rough, betraying his need.

“That’s what I thought,” she said with a small, triumphant smile. Without further preamble, she shifted down the bed and pulled his sweatpants down to his ankles. His cock lay semi-hard against his thigh, thickening as she wrapped her delicate fingers around it and began to stroke him slowly, her touch light and teasing.

Jihoon let out a soft groan, one hand fisting in the sheets as she tightened her grip just slightly, twisting her wrist with each upward stroke. His breathing quickened, and she watched as his cock swelled fully in her hand, the head growing slick with precum.

Leaning down, she flicked her tongue against his tip, gathering the salty fluid on her tongue. Jihoon's hips jerked, and she could feel his need building, coiling tight within him. She licked him again, this time tracing a slow, deliberate path around the head of his cock before wrapping her lips around him. The taste of his skin was familiar and intoxicating, his musk mingling with the scent of sweat and desire. She felt him tense as she took more of him into her mouth, his breath hitching as she began to work her mouth up and down his length, her tongue pressing firmly against his shaft.

With each movement, she took him deeper, the head of his cock nudging at the back of her throat before she pulled back, only to plunge down again, setting a rhythm that had him moaning audibly, his free hand tangling in her hair, urging her on. Her own arousal grew as she felt him twitch in her mouth, her panties growing damp from the power she held over him in this moment.

She moaned around his cock, the vibration drawing a guttural groan from him. She could feel the tension in his thighs, the way his hips strained to thrust upwards. Pulling back with a wet sound, she looked up at him, her eyes dark and heavy with lust. “You want to fuck my mouth, don’t you?” she asked, her voice husky.

“Yes,” he breathed, his eyes glazed over with desire. “Fuck yes, please, I need it.”

She smiled then, a small, devilish smile, and lied down on her side, against the wall. She tilted her head slightly, opening her mouth wide, extending her tongue to allow him to take what he needed. With a grunt, he pushed himself sideways, facing her, his cock bobbing heavily in the air, slick and wet from her attention. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear gently, a momentary tenderness amidst the haze of lust. Then he gripped her hair, tangling his fingers in the silky strands.

She looked up at him with those large, innocent-seeming eyes that belied the wanton desire behind them.

With a groan, he began to guide himself into her mouth, slowly at first, letting her tongue slide along the underside of his shaft before he reached the back of her throat. He paused there, giving her time to adjust, and then he began to thrust in earnest, his hips rocking as he held her head in place, his cock sliding deep into her mouth. She gagged slightly but recovered quickly, her throat relaxing to accommodate him as he fucked her mouth with an increasing fervor, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he chased his pleasure.

The sound of his cock plunging into her mouth, slick and wet, filled the room, punctuated by his grunts and her muffled moans. He felt his climax building, the pressure coiling tighter and tighter within him until finally, he exploded, his cum flooding her mouth as she swallowed greedily, her eyes watering with the effort of taking all he had to give.

When he finally pulled away, spent and panting, he collapsed back onto the bed, his eyes closed as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm. She swallowed again, licking her lips to catch every drop of his pleasure, relishing in the taste of him.

She crawled onto his chest, pressing her soft breasts against him as she kissed his cheek, her breath smelling of him. “You taste good,” she murmured against his skin. "Maybe you could make me feel good too?"

Jihoon chuckled breathlessly, opening one eye to look at her. “Hell no. Since you don't want to stay, I ain't going to let you come tonight."

Haeun rolled her eyes and huffed, but she knew better than to argue. Someone as prideful as Jihoon was a terrible person to try and debate. No, she would need to appeal to his baser instincts, and she knew exactly how to do it.

She wriggled against him, leaning into his ear, every word a whimper.

"Wouldn't you like to send me to him still filled with your seed?" she asked. "Make him clean up your mess before he can take me?"

She could practically hear his cock twitch at that.

She got ready to leave early the next morning, her hair still damp from the shower she'd taken. She left Jihoon sleeping in her bed, his body lax and spent, his breathing deep and even, a satisfied smile etched on his face even in his slumber. She had not kept her promise, and did not intend to wait around for him to wake and check before she left.

Grabbing her duffel bag, she bade a hasty farewell to Mina, who mumbled a groggy goodbye from the kitchen, and made her way outside, to the taxi that was waiting for her. She hummed as she skipped through the lobby, her mind already on the weekend ahead.